On the Shore of this Uncharted Desert Isle
by Dr. Peyton Westlake
Summary: The madness of Jonas Grumby, aka Skipper.


On the Shore of this Uncharted Desert Isle

Or the Madness of Jonas Grumby

Conroy Randall pulled his _Honda Civic_ into the parking lot of Greystone Park Psychiatric Hospital seventeen minutes early. As he drove closer, his anxious eyes scanned the parking lot and found a spot towards the front. He sped into the spot and put the compact car in park. He leaned over to his passenger seat to grab his worn satchel and unfastened his seatbelt. He then looked at the menacing structure before him and took one final deep breath.

"Ok Roy. This is it. Let's make the most of this interview. It's a once in a lifetime opportunity", he muttered.

He opened the sedan door and put his loafer to the pavement and got out slowly. With each step closer, his mind became overwhelmed by a mental storm of thoughts and ideas. His hand reached out in excitement and pulled the heavy steel framed door open. Upon entering, he strode gracefully to the reception desk and marveled at the facility's contemporary lobby.

"I'm Conroy Randall. I have an interview with Mr. Grumby this morning".

The clerk behind the desk, looked unimpressed, and his eyes returned downward and went back to working.

"I think I am a little early. I just wanted to let you know I am here. I can wait over there until you're ready", Conroy said as he pointed to a high back leather chair.

"We know who you are. Dr. Charlton will be with you shortly".

"Thank you". Wow _it_ speaks Conroy thought and took the seat he previously pointed to. He didn't have long to get lost in his thoughts before Dr. Charlton emerged. He was well dressed, wearing an olive colored Harris Tweed jacket accented by a scarlet tie. His salt and pepper hair stood out and complemented his eminent appearance.

"Mr. Randall pleased to meet you. Follow me, we are pressed for time. We can talk as we walk".

Conroy sprung from his seat, grabbed his satchel and hurried alongside of Dr. Charlton.

"We have to hurry? Why is that?", he blurted out trying to keep pace with his senior host.

"Mr. Grumby is scheduled for depositions and evaluations mandated by the state for the defense team today. No one will be able to interrupt that for quite some time", as his strides increased with urgency.

"I am going to fill you in quickly on the rules of visitation for Mr. Grumby. Please don't ignore them. They are only there for your protection" he said sternly.

"He is imprisoned in a cell made of steel bars. Do _not_ be tempted to touch them or reach your hand or hands through the bars. Offer him absolutely nothing _except_ paper. If you _do_ offer him that item, instruct him to step to the rear of the cell placing his back against the wall before you pass him the paper. Do _not_ accept anything at all he might offer you. No exceptions. Do you understand these rules Mr. Randall?"

Their steps echoed loudly down the cavernous hall as the doctor recited the list of regulations.

"I do" he said nervously. Suddenly Conroy's breathing quickened and his heart raced like an Italian sports car. He wondered what he was exactly getting himself into.

"Oh…and Mr. Randall".

"Yes"?

"You do know myself and the defense team will have to be debriefed about your conversation with Mr. Grumby"?

"Absolutely".

Conroy followed Dr. Charlton down the corridor that had walls made from large, chocolate brown stone blocks. Because it was dimly lit, yellow flickers of light tinted the corridor in a ghoulish haze. They passed cells on both sides. Some occupied. Some were not. One cell to the right, as they strode by, had an occupant that sprung to the cell bars screaming which startled Conroy. He had dark hair that stood straight up on his head as if he were a frightened cat.

"Don't believe them. They are liars. There really are aliens!", the crazed man yelled.

Dr. Charlton grabbed Conroy's arm assuredly and got him back on track. Physically and mentally.

"Don't mind him. That's just Giorgio. He is actually harmless".

They finally reached the end of their trek and turned the corner where only one cell remained. And there he was. The calculating and captivating Jonas Grumby. Standing up with great posture, dressed in an orange jumpsuit. He had a grin eerily reminiscent of the _Cheshire Cat_. Dr. Conroy pointed to him and then waved goodbye as he disappeared down that dark hallway that seemed to swallow him whole instantly.

"Well, Mr. Randall it is nice to finally meet your acquaintance. I was beginning to think you changed your mind and abandoned plans to meet".

"No, no…there was a lot of legal hurdles and delays before they would approve of this meeting".

Jonas nodded acknowledging he understood. The whole time his eyes never left the sight of Conroy which made him feel very uneasy.

"Shall we begin?", Jonas said eagerly.

Conroy nodded and then cleared his throat.

"Before I start Mr. Grumby, I just have to ask. Why did you agree to my interview but turn down countless others?"

"Ahhhhhhhhhh well. At the end of it all that will be revealed Mr. Randall. And please, let's rid ourselves of the formalities. You can call me _Skipper_."

"Ok. Fair enough. Let's begin then Skipper". Roy reached into his satchel and pulled out a voice recorder and activated it. He looked back at Skipper standing still, his eyes still fixated on Roy with what can either be called a mischievous or maniacal smile.

"And you can call me Roy". The Skipper smiled pleased that Roy was playing along.

"So you were all stranded on that isle for how long?"

"It was roughly three years Roy. Give or take. The days and nights sometime seem to blend in to each other."

"And you all were close?"

"As close as a true family Roy. We celebrated each other's birthdays as best we could figure with a calendar the Professor came up with. Made a point to eat dinner together every night. It really was a wonderful time".

"Well it sounds like you had a problem most would envy Skipper".

"How's that Roy?", Skipper looked interested in his belief.

"Like every dark cloud has a silver lining. You were stranded on a tropical paradise. No obligations or responsibilities holding you down. Had a grand time with your family. What went wrong Skipper?"

Skipper smiled liked he was anticipating that question. "Roy after three years, the _family_ seemed to drift apart. No longer did we enjoy each other's company. Bickering became a common occurrence. And certain people believed they were above others. In a societal sense."

"And why do you think that happened?"

"Despair Roy. No doubt in my mind. You get stranded for three years and see how it crushes your spirit. I guess the realization of the chance we are never going to be rescued started to creep into their minds."

"But just earlier you mentioned something about certain people believed they were above others? Did that have something to do with it and not the feeling of despair"?

"That didn't help. Those Howells were certainly good for that".

"Tell me Skipper, how were they?"

"Well me and my little buddy…", the Skipper started off.

"You mean Gilligan?", Roy trying to clarify.

"Yes Gilligan. Before the hopelessness set in, me and my little buddy would always help the others in whatever they needed. The Professor, his name was Roy too, would come up with ideas on how to make life easier on the island. You know, making tools or contraptions. So we would go out and gather the materials and help him build whatever he dreamt up. Some worked, some didn't."

"And this stopped when you all drifted apart?"

"Oh no. It continued. More and more it seemed. Seemed like me and Gilligan were only good for being the island lackeys. Somedays we had to split up because there was so much to do".

"Split up?", Roy questioned.

"Yes Roy. Actually we had so many things going on at once me and my little buddy had to be doing different things at different places on the island just about every day. He was either helping the Howells with some idiotic chore while I was out helping the Professor hauling bamboo and vine for his current projects."

"So you both were essentially the island's labor & maintenance team?"

"That's putting it lightly.", the Skipper seemed to be internally reflecting about something.

"One day Gilligan came to me and asked if we could switch chores for the day. He was with the Howells for a few days and needed a break. They can be so debasing so I said sure thing little buddy. Well that arrogant millionaire had me climbing palm trees to cut down coconuts for them. Just because his snooty wife wanted a tropical drink that required it. Can you believe that Roy? I mean the audacity of that couple. So there I was, climbing to cut down some coconuts as I put them in a burlap bag that was hanging off my waist.", the Skipper's mood seemed to darken quickly.

"And then he wanted me to return to them at night while they had dinner and be their personal bartender. And use the same coconuts I cut down that day for their _refreshing_ drink. I said sure Mr. Howell. And that's when it hit me".

Roy just sat silently and listened as Skipper's personality seemed to change before him. He was no longer standing with perfect posture and was more hunched at the shoulders. His voice was not soothing. His speech was more frenzied. And then there was his eyes. Those eyes that started out with a twinkle seemed to have distaste burning in them.

"I did return later to be there for their dinner. I didn't enter the path they normally thought I would use. As I crept up through the thick vegetation I saw Mr. Howell lounging on a chair with his back to me. That's when I struck."

"You mean that's when you…", Roy asked horrified."

The Skipper nodded with a devilish grin.

"The one coconut I was holding came crashing down on the back of his head with such brute force it split the coconut apart. He didn't even make a sound. Just fell out of the chair to the ground as the blood seeped out of his head."

"So no one knew what was going on?"

"Oh they knew. That snobby wife of his saw. She screamed so loud the whole island heard and she scampered off into the jungle. I ran after her next but she didn't get very far. It seemed she got about twenty yards or so and just keeled over. Her poor highbrow heart just gave out. That was a two-for-one Roy!".

Roy smiled and nodded as he listened to the tale of butchery unfold.

"I ran back through the darkness as fast as I could, weaving in and out of the palm trees guided only by the Pacific moonlight heading east towards the Minnow. I knew I kept something hidden in its wreckage I would find a use for one day."

"What was it?" Roy asked inquisitively.

"A harpoon gun I had stored away on board for snorkelers that chartered the boat. I never told anyone it was there because I was afraid of an accident happening with it. I grabbed it and made my way to the girls' hut. They knew I was outside and stepped out crying and pleading for their lives. Maryann hid behind Ginger with her head popping out from behind Ginger just enough to see _. You two should have thanked me with some tender kisses instead of all those insults over the years_ I said to them unapprovingly. Then I just aimed the harpoon and fired it. It sped through the air like a laser and speared through them both. They fell like a chopped tree. _Finally, I nailed you both_ I said with hysterical laughter".

Roy thought before he spoke next watching the large man giggle and wipe tears from his eyes.

"So now what's going through you mind Skipper? You just disposed of four out of six of your family."

"Not family anymore Roy. Burdens"

Roy sat quietly and thought was the Skipper's madness really a byproduct of the castaways' collective despair? Or was he always a lunatic since the first day they were stranded? Roy was shaken free from his thoughts as the Skipper carried on with the gruesome fable.

"You see I had formulated a plan long before this episode ever happened."

"Why was that Skipper?"

"The Navy taught me to be prepared Roy. Their training and instruction is a priceless lesson to anyone who is lucky enough to be taught by the best military in the world. I knew if we were stranded here for an excessive amount of time, without adequate supplies, it would erupt into an _everyman for himself scenario_. So I came up with a plan on _how to defeat the enemy_ if such an occasion should arise".

"So you planned the who and how before? This wasn't just an impulsive action?"

"Absolutely Roy. That is why I left the Professor for last because I knew he would be a worthy adversary and wouldn't go down easy or without a fight. He was too smart for that", the Skipper sparkled in his brilliance.

"And what was your plan against the Professor?"

"I knew after I eliminated the other four he would know what was going on and react somehow. I knew time was of the essence and giving him time to think and prepare was not an option. So I took the fight to him fast as I ran hard closing in on him as quick as possible."

"So it worked? Did you surprise him?"

"It worked excellent. I caught him trying to run down to the lagoon with a packed bag flung over his shoulder and tackled him at the shoreline. We both got up. One foot on the dry beach and one foot ankle deep in the lagoon water".

"Did he say anything to you when he got up and looked at you?"

The Skipper nodded a silent _yes_ to Roy.

"What did he say?"

"Why Skipper?"

Roy looked at him and wondered the same. Then the Skipper resumed speaking.

"I'll tell you why I said. I started out as the protector. The leader. The savior of us all on the island. And slowly as time passed, you all took that away from me. You all thought you could do better. That suddenly Skipper was a lumbering fool. You cast me to the lowest rank and made me an island servant. A slave! But like a lion who has loosened his grip over his pride, that lion has to _roar_ to remind everyone who truly is king".

There was a long an awkward silence between the two men. The only thing left was the demise of the Professor. Roy looked at Skipper, and then shifted his eyes away feeling uncomfortable. Roy felt very uneasy asking him to continue but didn't have to as Skipper broke the silence.

"He finally gathered his courage and took a run at me. I threw out two lightning left jabs that landed hard and snapped his neck back and made him fall on his backside. I spun behind him on the ground and put him in a choke hold. He struggled in a valiant effort but he succumbed quick. I dropped him in the gentle surf that broke at the shore. There he stayed submerged and I knew it was over."

Suddenly reappearing like _Merlin_ out of the mists was Dr. Charlton in a hurry.

"Mr. Randall the interview has to come to an end now. Mr. Grumby is needed elsewhere."

"Yes Doctor, I was just about finished".

Before he got up to leave, Roy wondered about one last piece to the puzzle.

"Skipper? Just one more thing before we go?"

"Sure Roy. Shoot".

"Why me?"

He had a deep hardy laugh and held his belly as he did it. Almost like Santa Claus. After he was done have a good, cleansing laugh he let Roy in on the big secret.

"Trying to deal with the daily grind I would sometimes pop into the _Minnow_ for some peace and refocus myself. Like I said there wasn't much left. But there were some newspapers and magazines that remarkably remained untouched. As you can imagine I read them all cover to cover several times. But there was one I would return to more than the others. It was an article on the author's thoughts for the secrets to a happy life. When I had difficult times, I read and it soothed me. And I always remember who wrote it. Conroy Randall", he said with a smile.

Roy's mouth dropped to the floor in disbelief.

THE END


End file.
